


Potions and Parahumans (Worm/Harry Potter Fusion)

by EtchJetty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15855741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtchJetty/pseuds/EtchJetty
Summary: Worm/HP fusion where Earth Bet and the world Harry Potter takes place on are one and the same.





	1. Ceremony and Sorting Hats

**Author's Note:**

> Also available on Spacebattles: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/potions-and-parahumans-worm-harry-potter-fusion.675421/

Ruby Runcorn was _not_ very excited to go to Hogwarts.  
  
"Firs’ years!"  
  
This whole insane situation went against everything she learned from the day she moved into the Pastor’s house. The Pastor always made sure to tell her that Capes were satanic beings every time the King’s Men or Protectorate featured in the newspaper. Whenever she accidentally used her power, he would lock her in a room until whatever she had done was resolved by the sworn-to-silence cleaning team, and would then make her go to confession and admit to worshipping the Devil. Not once in all five years she lived with the Pastor did ever she consider using her power, Lord forbid, on _purpose_. To train and learn to hone that power was not only blasphemous, but ridiculous.  
  
"Firs’ years over here! All right there, Harry?"  
  
Of course, the choice was totally out of her hands the moment she’d seen the green-robed lady waiting for her with a letter outside the Pastor’s office. She had cried that day, not out of gratitude, but out of fear. If using her power accidentally got her sent to confession, then it followed that using it on purpose would send her straight to Hell.  
  
"C’mon, follow me -- any more firs’ years?" bellowed the extremely large, hairy man with the lamp. "Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!"  
  
Shivering in the dark, Ruby followed behind the other first years down a steep, dark, narrow path. Once or twice, she stumbled a bit, but caught herself before actually tripping. Her glasses did not reveal much of the path, especially when the only light source was the one held by the man much further in front.  
  
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," he bellowed, "jus' round this bend here."  
  
The kids up in front gave a loud "Oooooh!" and everyone behind them started to rush forward and see what all the fuss was about.  
  
Despite her initial lack of enthusiasm, Ruby joined the rest of the kids in awe when the path opened up to reveal a beautiful black lake larger than any she’d seen in her life. An expansive castle, turrets and towers poking out of every wall, was perched on a mountain on the other shore.  
  
The man interrupted Ruby’s train of thought by pointing a gigantic hand at a row of boats bobbing in the water near the shore.  
  
"No more’n four to a boat!" he yelled. Ruby silently followed behind the other kids, joining three others she had never met before. "Everyone in? Right then -- FORWARD!"  
  
As soon as he called out, every boat shot across the surface of the lake, leaving nary a ripple as they travelled. No one dared to speak, totally enthralled by the sight of the huge castle towering over them. Its windows glittered in the darkness.  
  
The boats approached an opening in a cliff on the other shore, and the hairy man shouted for everyone to keep their heads down.  
  
The boats took the children through an underground tunnel that went right underneath the castle. It opened up to reveal a small underground cove, and the kids all scrambled out until the trip was momentarily halted by their escort discovering a toad left in one of the boats. The toad hastily returned to its owner, Ruby followed everyone else out up a passageway leading to the front door of the castle.  
  
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" confirmed the man. Seemingly happy with whatever silent answer was given, he raised his fist and knocked on the oak door three times, revealing the same woman who had visited the Pastor’s home only a few short weeks ago.  
  
"The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall," said the man.  
  
"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here," responded McGonagall.  
  
The man, who Ruby now knew as Hagrid, stomped in the opposite direction of the children as McGonagall opened the door wide. The entrance hall alone was bigger than any single room Ruby had ever seen, with torches lining the stone walls and a ceiling that gave her slight vertigo just to look at.  
  
Luckily for Ruby’s incoming nausea, they did not stay there for very long. Professor McGonagall marched them over to a small side chamber, passing by a doorway with voices coming out of it. Almost everyone packed themselves together tightly to hear the next words she would say with nervous eagerness.  
  
Ruby, for her part, was too busy internally panicking able to pay attention to McGonagall’s speech. She could only catch the barest information about the four Houses and the tournament they participated in.  
  
She managed to fully focus in time to hear McGonagall finish up her speech: “...each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.  
  
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."  
  
The professor glanced at some of the students in particular, then continued. "I shall return when we are ready for you," she said. "Please wait quietly."  
  
She left the chamber, leaving Ruby only to her own thoughts. Most of the others looked terrified, which was reassuring in an odd way. One girl in front was whispering something Ruby couldn’t make out.  
  
Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. "What’s the difference between the houses?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Well, I heard that Slytherin are the bad guys," responded a girl standing next to her. It was Lisa Turpin, one of the people she had shared a compartment with on the Hogwarts Express.  
  
"Bad guys?" Ruby was honestly shocked.  
  
"Yeah. Rumoured highest turnout of Dark Wizards of any House, their founder was a loony who caused a civil war within Hogwarts, and, I mean, come on. Snake imagery? If you wanted to be more classically evil, the only thing you could have done was put little devil ears on the House Animal," stated Lisa casually, wagging her pointer fingers behind her head to accentuate her words.  
  
Ruby swallowed. She had agreed to come to Hogwarts for three reasons: to learn to control her powers, her tuition had already been paid, and because McGonagall had repeatedly assured her no Satanic worship occurred within the halls of the castle. This "Slytherin house," on the other hand...  
  
"Do you think you go to Hell if you’re in Slytherin?" asked Ruby, barely a whisper.  
  
Lisa turned to make full eye contact with Ruby. "Oh, I _know_ you do."  
  
Ruby’s eyes brimmed with tears. This was not what she was promised. A whole group of Satan-worshippers at Hogwarts, almost a quarter of the school? Lisa was saying something else, but Ruby had stopped listening by then.  
  
No matter what, decided Ruby, she would not be sorted into Slytherin.  
  
Immediately after she resolved herself to this new goal, about twenty pale-white figures floated above her head. She screamed. So did a few kids around her. Were these ghosts? If these godless people performed true necromancy, then they were sinners nearly beyond repentance.  
  
The satanic spirits argued amongst themselves until one suddenly took notice of the small children standing below them.  
  
"I say, what are you all doing here?"  
  
Nobody answered the deceased man wearing a ruff and tights.  
  
"New students!" said one, smiling in a way Ruby hoped wasn’t a sign it was about to eat her soul. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"  
  
A few of the more courageous nodded silently.  
  
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" it said. "My old house, you know."  
  
The spirit was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."  
  
The spirits flew through the opposite wall, and when they were all gone Ruby let out a breath she had only been barely aware she had been holding. _It really did sound like they were ghosts_ , she worried.  
  
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."  
  
Obediently, the students did as they were told. Ruby was behind the boy who had lost his toad earlier. They walked out of the side room, back through the hallway, and into the double doors they had passed earlier.  
  
The Great Hall was certainly deserving of the name. The room’s main source of light was thousands of candles hovering in midair, spread somewhat randomly above the room. Four extremely long tables housed hundreds of students, who stared at the first years with something like hunger. The front of the room featured a long table, where people Ruby assumed were some form of clergy sat. McGonagall led the first years down the middle aisle, so they were roughly spread out in front of the clergymen.  
  
The room seemed to have no ceiling at all, and instead only stretch to the stars.  
  
Once everyone was in place, McGonagall set a four-legged stool down in front of the new students. On top was an ancient-looking wizard’s hat. _No self-respecting member of the clergy would wear something like that_ , thought Ruby, _it’s much too dirty. Even a Cape would hesitate before donning something like_ that _._  
  
Of course, that was the moment it opened its mouth and began to sing.  
  
Ruby could only stare wide-eyed as the talking hat sang a song about the differences between the houses. The Gryffindors were brave, Hufflepuffs loyal, Ravenclaws wise, and... Cunning, the hat had called the Slytherins. Wasn’t that what the Serpent was said to have been? It used Eve as a way to meet its ends, to tempt Humanity to sinfulness.  
  
This only confirmed Ruby’s suspicions. If you went to Slytherin, you went to Hell. Truly, it was lucky Lisa had warned her. Now, she knew what to do.  
  
Professor McGonagall held up a long roll of parchment and invited up “Abbot, Hannah!” to sit on the stool and put on the hat. After only a moment’s pause--  
  
“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat shouted. Hannah took a seat with her new fellows.  
  
This continued on for some time. “Bones, Susan” joined Hannah in Hufflepuff, “Boot, Terry” was the first Ravenclaw, “Brocklehurst, Mandy” sat down next to Terry, and “Brown, Lavender” became the first Gryffindor, much to the joy of the far left side of the room.  
  
The first Slytherin was “Bulstrode, Millicent!” Ruby could only shake her head in honest pity.  
  
“Corner, Michael” became a Ravenclaw, joined shortly by “Cornfoot, Stephen!” “Crabbe, Vincent” became a Slytherin, and “Davis, Tracey” sat a respectful distance away at the same table. “Entwhistle, Kevin” and “Finch-Fletchley, Justin” became Hufflepuffs. “Finnigan, Seamus” was the second Gryffindor, “Goldstein, Anthony” sat with Ravenclaw, “Goyle, Gregory” joined the legion of Satanists, and so it went.  
  
Ruby stopped paying attention after “Granger, Hermione” took more than a few minutes to get sorted. Instead, her mind began to loop a few thoughts over and over.  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw. No exceptions._  
  
_I want to be a good Christian._  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
_I don’t want to go to hell._  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
_McGonagall lied to me._  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
And so it went, until “Roper, Sophie” was placed in Hufflepuff. Ruby was startled out of her inner turmoil by McGonagall’s loud shout of “Runcorn, Ruby!”  
  
She walked to the stool.  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
She sat down.  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
She put on the hat.  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
“Oho,” whispered a voice. “You’re an interesting one. Born to a pair of Muggles, raised by your local Pastor. And yet, I sense something within you. A potential for… what? Oh, hello, there.”  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff- what?_  
  
“Nice to meet you too. Us semi-sentient beings should really organize a convention of sorts, I never have any company. So, am I Sorting the two of you as one?”  
  
Ruby was trying to understand what the Hat was talking about, but couldn't follow the train of logic.  
  
“No? Haven't bonded fully, you say. Well, that's a shame. You see, you'd be a perfect Slytherin, if so.”  
  
_...Slytherin?_ _Oh,_ no.  
  
“Truly cunning, hitching a ride in her brain. The mark of a true heir of Salazar, at least, in spirit. Do you do that to anyone else?”  
  
Ruby had stopped listening to the Sorting Hat. “ _You'd be a perfect Slytherin?_ ” she thought. _No, that- that can't be true! I'm a good Christian!_  
  
“Ah, so you'll be bonding with her shortly, then? Well, it's been nice speaking, but I must get back to my job. Ms Runcorn, sorry for the delay, but I just had a lovely chat. Do you have a preference of House?”  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw,_ Slytherin _?!_ Ruby’s thoughts were becoming clouded with panic.  
  
“That excited about Slytherin, hmm? Well, if I _were_ to count you and your friend as one being, which I insist I do, as the point will be moot soon enough anyway, I would place you both in SLYTHERIN!”  
  
Ruby could only dimly hear the hat shout the last word. Her eyes were wide with mortal panic.  
  
_I can’t go to Slytherin._  
  
_I don’t want to be-_  
  
_This is exactly what I didn’t want._  
  
_Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw._  
  
_I don’t want to go to Hell!_  
  
_McGonagall lied to me._  
  
_I don’t--_  
  
  
She saw something vast.  
  
  
_\--want to be me!_  
  
The vision faded. Ruby couldn't care less about it's contents, because her anger at McGonagall suddenly consumed her. That _witch_ had damned her to Hell, and Ruby was going to make her _pay_.  
  
Following an instinct she didn't even know she had, something within her _shifted_ , and suddenly, eleven-year-old Ruby Runcorn was a ferocious lion. Ignoring shocked whispers from around the room (“ _an animagus? At so young?”_ ), she followed her newfound feral instincts and _pounced_.  
  
It was only thanks to McGonagall's years of experience that she turned into a housecat right before Ruby could catch her. The tiny cat scurried away, and in her haste Ruby bumped her muzzle into the clergy’s desk. One of the clergymen, a black-robed man with greasy hair, stood up, took his wand out of his robes, aimed it at the momentarily-stunned lion, and shouted, “ _Kilobel!_ ”  
  
A directed wave of sound so loud it was practically a physical force hit Ruby, bursting her sensitive eardrums and sending her tumbling into a few of the remaining, screaming first-years. Scrabbling to her feet, in her fear, all she could think was, _I want to get away from that man_.  
  
And suddenly, she knew how. Following the same instinct as before, she _shifted_ , and where moments before there was a large lion struggling to stay on its feet, a tiny badger began to scurry away from the front of the room as fast as possible. She weaved under the tables, causing a few screams from people who felt _something_ quickly brush against their legs, and generally tried to stay out of sight of anyone who could hurt her.  
  
_The Great Hall wasn't safe. Where was safe? Not the Great Hall. Must leave the Great Hall,_ concluded Ruby. Unfortunately, someone must have deduced her path, because blocking the door was the same giant man who had brought the First Years into the castle. Ruby shrieked in her tiny little badger voice and all her thoughts.were suddenly consumed with _have to get out have to get out have to get out oUT OUT_!  
  
Ruby frantically looked around for escape routes. The windows were probably locked, and any other doors were blocked. Was there a trapdoor in the ceiling, like certain buses had for emergencies?  
  
Wait. There was no ceiling!  
  
The tiny badger looked up and saw only freedom. _I want to get out_ , she thought, and as she looked up Ruby felt her badger form _shift_ into one far more aerodynamic.  
  
Where there was once a tiny badger now stood a large brown eagle. She spread her wings, and pushed herself into the air. Ruby didn't allow herself time to even get to enjoy flying, because she could see the sky above her. It was so close, all she had to do was keep flying just a little bit more and--  
  
The bird cracked her beak on the definitely still-there ceiling. As she hurtled back down, quickly losing consciousness, Dumbledore stood up from his seat and pointed his wand at her. Her momentum arrested in midair, turning back into a physically unharmed yet unconscious little eleven-year-old girl. The wizard slowly lowered her down before she landed softly on top of the Hufflepuff table.  
  
“Merlin’s beard,” muttered Dumbledore, “a _parahuman_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter of a Worm/HP fusion I've been working on for some time. The premise is that in May of 1982, only a scant few months after the destruction of the Dark Lord, a golden man appeared hovering above a cruise ship.
> 
> Magic and Entities are totally incompatible. Thinkers like Contessa cannot see into muggle-warded areas, and the Ministry does not know of Capes (since they don't activate any magic alarms). The two worlds are almost completely unaware of each other, until, at least, Ruby’s Trigger.
> 
> The story is set around Harry’s time, rather than Taylor’s, because I get to explore the world of Worm before the Endbringers emerged. Also, if I were to set it in 2011, the Dark Lord would have already been vanquished, and that's not very fun, is it?
> 
> Special thanks to Hydra from the Cauldron Discord for helping with the Sorting Hat, as well as my friend who helped brainstorm basically the entire story. You know who you are.
> 
> Remember, feedback can make or break a story, so I would really appreciate any and all criticism. I’m trying to take a more thought-out approach to this than my last attempt at writing a fic, so please, don’t hesitate to share opinions.


	2. Chapter 2

Marlin McDougal, known to the public as Athrwys, parahuman head of the British organization the King's Men, was watching the seven o'clock news, frowning.

“... precogs worldwide. According to one recent report, even Scion momentarily paused, before seeming to frown, visibly shaking his head, and move on to stop a tornado in Malaysia. It is as of yet unknown who or what cape or human has caused the effect...”

  
His second-in-command, Lord Walston, came into the lounge with a grim look on his face.

  
“Any news?” asked Athrwys.

  
Lord Walston shook his head. “In terms of actual ‘news’ news, Good Feeling has officially redacted a fair number of positive long-term predictions. Delphi is still unconscious downstairs, Weatherman doesn't look like he'll be ready for action for another few hours, and a seemingly random desk clerk fainted at the same time. People are investigating his past as we speak. No coherent predictions have been made since point zero, and I'm sure you've guessed we don't know who or what did it. But that's not what I needed to tell you.”

Athrwys suddenly wished Good Feeling was here.

“Our 'benefactors’ have sent us another letter,” stated Lord Walston. “That makes seven.” He presented Athrwys with a plain-looking envelope, with the letter addressed to ‘The Leader of the King's Men,’ only distinguished by a stylized 'C’ on the front.

Athrwys gestured the letter away. “I've got to keep my eyes on the screen. Read it aloud.”

Lord Walston sighed quietly and flipped open the envelope. Sliding out the paper, he unfolded the note held within.

Lord Walston read to himself silently. Athrwys turned to look at him. “Are you quite finished?”

His subordinate met his eyes. “Does the name 'Ruby Runcorn’ mean anything to you?”

Marlin frowned. The name tickled at a memory, but it wasn't anything he could--

_\--sharing drinks at a bar, right before they all unmasked for the first time after putting Wraith behind bars. Walston at his side, the gorgeous Gargoyle across, and The Living Mural by her side. They were all laughing._

_“Like Humpty Dumpty! Lord Walston's horses and Athrwys’s King's Men, putting Britain back together again!” giggled Gargoyle._

_“I can't believe you're actually serious about that name,” chuckled The Living Mural._

_“Yes, well,” smiled Athrwys. “If that gets the name in the hearts and minds of the people of our fair nation, then it's bloody well worked, hasn't it?”_

_Athrwys paused, looked around the booth, and put up a shimmering red cubic barrier. “Nobody outside should be able to see or hear us now,” he stated._

_The Living Mural had frowned. “Athrwys, what's this about?”_

_“Don't-” he started. Then he pulled a hidden latch on his helmet. “We've worked together for years now. It feels wrong to still be using codenames.”_

_Athrwys tugged off his helmet, revealing a smallish face and fair, close-cropped brown hair. “My name is Marlin McDougal, and I would like to formally invite The Living Mural and Gargoyle to join Lord Walston and me in becoming founding members of the King's Men.”_

_The two capes across from him shared a meaningful glance. Gargoyle nodded almost imperceptibly to her partner. The Living Mural pulled off his iconic paint palette mask, revealing a man with rosy cheeks and a bushy moustache. “My name is Charlie Runcorn,” he began._

_Across from him, Gargoyle pulled off her domino mask. *My name is Ellie Runcorn,” she said. “And we've been married for the past six years.”_

_“This probably isn't the best time to mention that we were planning to retire for the sake of our daughter, Ruby, was it?”--_

\--recall.

“Actually, it does. Why?” asked Athrwys.

Lord Walston turned the note around.

Go to St. Mungo’s Hospital and retrieve Ruby Runcorn, a recently triggered parahuman.

She will join the junior King's Men team at all costs but one: Her schooling must continue where she is enrolled currently.

7/59

_-C_

_“Fifty-nine_ , Marlin?” Lord Walston’s voice boomed across the small break room. “You never told me it was  _this bad_!”

“I never needed to,” he whispered.

“You-!” Lord Walston visibly restrained himself. “Just- tell me about the girl.”

“I don't think I ever met her in person. But her parents were Gargoyle and The Living Mural.”

Lord Walston frowned. “You were closer to the Runcorns than I ever was. What exactly happened to Ruby after The Graveyard?”

Past failures flashed into Athrwys's mind--

 _\--escaping, the Faerie Queen was escaping, after seven casualties, the combined efforts of the fifty King's Men associates called here weren't enough, she'd already broken through the first barrier, she was flying, flying out over the graveyard, and Athrwys was too slow, too stupid, to put something_ stronger _, more_ esoteric _up--_

\--of the Runcorns’ doomed last stand--

\-- _she had already become her impervious stone form, rooted to the ground, her husband turning into grey paint to share the effects of her power, when Glaistig Uaine flew right past them, only the tip of her pinky toe touching the monstrous statue, but that was enough, enough to lock them there, frozen forever as a cenotaph to themselves--_

\--of funerals of friends--

_\--the thirteen who had died had public funerals, but their civilian identities each had their own smaller ones, the Runcorns, of course, together, but their little girl was absent, the pastor who had answered the door said she couldn't take knowing that the heroes had failed her parents and wanted to never contact anyone in the caped community again, and Marlin had felt like he truly had failed--_

\--but surprisingly little about the girl herself. He couldn't remember ever having spoken to her.

“I think she became a Nun or something,” Athrwys said. He looked around the break room, then stood up. “No point in putting it off. Let's go to Saint Mungo's.”

A moment’s pause, then- “Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I've never actually heard of a Saint Mungo's. How do I get there?”

Lord Walston took another look at the envelope. “Ah. Instructions are written on the inside. Do you want me to accompany you to...” He ripped the front half of the envelope off so the handwriting inside was visible to Athrwys. “Purge and Dowse, Ltd?”

\-------------------------------------------------

“I've got a bad feeling about this place,” said Athrwys, sitting on one of Lord Walston's ghostly horses. The pair of them stared at the abandoned department store Cauldron had ordered them to enter. It was reportedly undergoing renovation, but it didn't look like construction had been active for some time. The only sign that this was the location they were supposed to be at was a faded sign on the facade of the building, ‘Purge and Dows.’ The 'e’ had long since faded.

“As do I,” said Lord Walston. “It could be a parahuman effect.”

“It could be,” Athrwys frowned. “No point debating it unless you have a way to avoid this impending sense of dread horror I'm feeling.”

Lord Walston sighed atop his shimmering mare. “I wish Good Feeling was here.”

“We can't always get what we want, Walston.”

The two of them trotted towards the front door and dismounted. Athrwys set up a weaker, more mobile barrier to protect from physical attacks, and the ghostly horses dissipated, leaving the men alone.

“Shall we?”

They peered through the window of the locked front door, but only saw what they had seen from the window - an abandoned department store. Cauldron had never failed them in instruction before, however, so Athrwys swapped out mobile protection for a privacy barrier, rendering him and Walston invisible to all but capes with the strongest senses. The pair did not have to wait long under the barrier before a short woman in long, flowing robes and a pointed hat came close to the building.

Lord Walston leaned over. “Have you ever seen her before?”

“No. Hush.”

They watched her take meaningful strides towards a mannequin in a display window. “Wotcher, I'm here to see Parzefall Hunte,” she said. Athrwys and Lord Walston shared a meaningful glance.

However, to the shock of both invisible onlookers, the mannequin nodded to the robed woman and beckoned her forward. She stepped through the glass, disappearing completely.

Once the privacy barrier disappeared, the two walked towards the mannequin the woman had spoken to.

"Wotcher,” started Athrwys, “we're here to see Ruby Runcorn.”

The mannequin tilted its head quizzaciously, and Athrwys suddenly felt very conscious of the fact that he was wearing a shiny golden knight's costume. Finally, the figure gave a reluctant nod and beckoned the two of them forward.

As he stepped through, Athrwys felt a sudden dizziness as the surroundings melted away, only to be boggled by what he saw. The pair had certainly arrived in a waiting room for a hospital, that much was evident from the rows of people in various states of distress, but it seemed to be for those suffering from some of the more...  _exotic_  effects of parahuman power. Some of the robed men and women seemed to suffer from horrible disfigurements, rivalling what Athrwys had seen in some of the more disturbing monster capes. A few more normal looking individuals were reading magazines with fake labels like  _Quidditch Quarterly_. Green-robed men and women with clipboards walked up and down the waiting area, asking questions of the patients. One approached the pair. Athrwys noted the emblem of a bone crossed with what looked like either a stick or a magic wand.

“Welcome to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Wotcher has noted that this is your first time here, so my service is offered to you as a Welcomewizard and escort.”

Athrwys was about to turn him down, but took another look at the horribly confusing room, with moving portraits, robed people shouting and making the  _oddest_  sounds, and finally decided to just nod and smile.

“We're here to see Ruby Runcorn,” said Lord Walston.

“Ah, yes. She should be in...” He tapped on a scroll held in his hands with a long stick, before frowning. “The special ward. Oh dear, that very rarely happens, I do hope she's alright.”

Athrwys felt completely out of his depth.

“I hope so too,” he finally responded.

The 'Welcomewizard’ led him and Lord Walston down a corridor, before turning right, right, and right again, and finally ending with a right turn. They arrived in a room with just three beds, and three or four robed individuals, circling the only occupied bed. The man who looked like a stereotypical white-bearded wizard was arguing with a woman wearing emerald-green robes. Athrwys set up a small sound-enhancing barrier near one of his ears to eavesdrop before they noticed him.

“... can't just  _leave_  in the middle of the Sorting Ceremony, Albus! It has never happened before in the history of Hogwarts!”

“This is bigger than Hogwarts, Minerva!” shouted the bearded man. “We can no longer simply Obliviate the poor witch or wizard who catches a glimpse of one, the girl is no longer  _human_! She is the first magic-compatible member of an entirely new species of sentient beings,  _has revealed her existence to the entire student body of Hogwarts,_ and our top priority is to not, in any way, shape, or form, to mess up...”

He turned around as if just noticing Lord Walston and Athrwys standing in the doorway behind him. “First contact,” he finished. “My apologies. How do you do, my name is Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore, and although I am known by many names and titles, the one that is most pertinent is Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Athrwys, leader of the King's Men,” responded Athrwys.

“Lord Walston,” said Lord Walston. “And...” He looked around, but the cheery Welcomewizard had disappeared.

“What do you think you're doing here?” demanded the emerald-robed woman, apparently Minerva.

Athrwys and Lord Walston shared a glance before Athrwys stepped forward. “As the leader of the King's Men, I find it to often be my duty to meet with recently-triggered parahumans and provide them direction, support, and if at all possible, a place on the King's Men. The Runcorns were personal friends of mine. I would very much like to invite Ruby to the King's Men headquarters if at the very least to remove her from the environment she triggered in.”

Minerva looked confused. “Trigger?”

“The worst day of your life,” said Lord Walston. “Dr Manton’s still researching it, but every potential parahuman hits their lowest possible low, and is pushed to something akin to fight-or-flight, but more extreme. People who survive the experience gain parahuman powers.”

“Worst day...” muttered Dumbledore. “Fits with what I've seen in the others, but I can't see exactly how being assigned a House would constitute something of that magnitude. It's an open secret the Hat lets you choose. Unless...” He shook his head. “We’d be grateful if you took her to your medical centre. I'm certain they're more qualified to handle this situation than we are.”

“Of course,” said Athrwys.

“Please do try to return her to Hogwarts.” Dumbledore flicked his wrist into his robe and pulled out a surprisingly normal-looking business card. “The location is written here. Simply looking at it should supercede the powers of the Unplottability Charm.”

“Right,” said Athrwys, pocketing the card.

“I must return to my students. Minerva, hold onto my arm.” She did, and the two disappeared in a sudden burst of flames.

After blinking at the small scorch marks on the floor where the two used to be, the pair looked to the unconscious girl on the bed.

“We should have asked what her powers were,” muttered Lord Walston.

“I can't believe I forgot to ask,” agreed Athrwys. He stepped over to one side of the bed. “Are you going to carry her or should I?”


End file.
